


Busty Boys

by Zumberge



Category: Original Work
Genre: Breast Expansion, Breast Fucking, Crossdressing, F/M, Gen, Hourglass Expansion, Inflation, M/M, male breast expansion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29225820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zumberge/pseuds/Zumberge
Summary: A small collection of short stories about guys growing boobs.
Kudos: 21





	1. Big Tiddy Goth BF (m/m, paizuri)

Nominative determinism is the idea that people gravitate towards interests that fit their names. So, for example, a person with the surname of "Taylor" is likely to take up sewing, one with the name of "Carpenter" becomes a woodworker, and so on. This is largely considered to be coincidental and an example of seeing patterns where none exist, as the various Handcock clans are not known to be masturbation addicts. Though in at least one instance it proved true, as Edgar - named after Edgar Allen Poe - was, as the saying went, "gothic as fuck."

Edgar was naturally anemic, which just made his raven-dark hair and black clothing contrast even more, was always listening to gothic metal in his room, and carried around a book of poetry by William Blake. Both were covers; the latter a dust jacket from a Blake book placed over David Eddings novels and other sources of fantasy cheese, the former blotting out the audio coming from mascot platformers. He tried to cultivate an air of disaffected detachment in public and was generally successful, though Lucas could see straight through it and knew Edgar about as well as he knew himself. Edgar didn't dislike this fact, though he would never admit it.

As Lucas was on the couch reading one afternoon, Edgar returned to the apartment. Giving him a glance over his shoulder as he entered Lucas asked, "how was the concert?"

"Acceptable," Edgar deadpanned. Lucas recognized that as enthusiastic praise.

"Did you eat?"

"Yes," he replied, crossing into the kitchen. Spotting a stack of cubes in a plastic bag on the counter he asked, "you get sugar cubes?"

Lucas thought for a moment. "I... guess? Are there any there?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Then yeah, I must've."

Edgar nodded, removing one from the bag and heading for his bedroom. "Gonna go relax," he said, something which Lucas understood as having a drink; more specifically, absinthe. Edgar did have an image to keep up, after all.

About fifteen minutes after Edgar retired to his room, Lucas' phone began to vibrate. Picking it up off the seat beside him he checked the number before giving the screen a tap and raising it to his ear. "Laura. What's up?"

"Did I leave anything at your apartment when I stopped by this morning?" she asked.

"Um." He scanned the room. "Maybe? What're you missing?"

"One of the projects I was working on. It should be a baggie of white cubes about the size of dice."

Lucas thought back for a bit until something clicked in his head. "Is it dangerous?"

"No," she laughed, "it's just an experimental breast enhancement supplement, if you'll believe that. We're not even sure if it does anything and there's so many side effects, though, so it's probably a dead end."

"What kind of side effects?" he asked, trying to ask casual despite mounting concern.

"Oh, alcohol really messes with it, and so do a lot of plants from the Apiaceae family-"

"Apia-what?"

"Apiaceae. Things like celery, parsley, anise..."

"So don't eat anything with secret spices." He glanced at Edgar's door. "I'll see if I can find it and keep it aside for you if you drop by, how's that sound?"

"Great, thanks! I'll see you later, then."

"See you," he replied, hanging up just as Edgar's door opened.

Edgar was an uninhibited and happy drunk, which he knew, which is why he didn't drink in public. Judging from the amount in Edgar's glass the absinthe had hit him far harder than he had hit it, and the "sugar" cube - which was certainly -not- sugar - had hit him even more than that. He was slight, but his chest had swollen out impressively, two heaping handfuls filling out his shirt. As it stood he was leaning against the doorframe, trying to look casual despite his leer. "Heyyyy, Lucas."

Lucas stared, slowly standing as he tried to form a sentence in his head but only managing to come up with, "what."

"'What' what?" His smile faded for a bit as he looked down at himself, realizing what the problem was. "Oh, that. Yeah, I've got tits now." He cupped one breast with his free hand before giving it a gentle squeeze; through the thin cloth Lucas could see a faint circle of pink around his tented nipple. "I think it had something to do with the absinthe."

"It does." He moved around the couch, approaching him. "That wasn't a sugar cube, it was breast supplements."

Edgar blinked, holding his beverage in front of him. "Really."

"So maybe you should-"

Lucas gaped as Edgar tossed the rest of it back, setting the glass down on a dresser inside his room. His breasts were visibly growing, the fabric confining and conforming to his new curves in equal measure, the band logo stretching across them. "What were you saying?"

"Edgar, th- wh- ...why?!"

"Hey, I know you like to window shop when you're out. Don't worry, I do it too." There was the quiet tearing of stitches and fibers as they continued to swell out, figurative melons approaching the size of literal ones. "I know you can't keep your eyes off of a girl with big tits." He hooked his fingers beneath the hem of his shirt, lifting it up. With a few more sharp tugs he gradually pulled it off his chest, setting them into motion for a second before they came to rest again. "So I don't have a problem with evening things up a little. Besides, you're always saying I need some fat on me."

Lucas' gaze went between Edgar's face and his breasts. "You are -so- drunk."

He gave him an open-mouthed smile, tongue hanging out and stud piercing glinting in the light. "Not as much as you'd think." By this time the drugs had lost their effect and his growth had slowed to a halt, each of them easily larger than his head. As he wrapped his arms around Lucas' waist they pressed into his chest, soft and heavy, and despite their size he could feel Lucas' heart pounding.

As Edgar leaned into him Lucas moved back and, distracted, fell over the armrest onto the seat of the sofa, landing harmlessly with Edgar atop him. As Edgar pushed himself up onto his hands and knees Lucas tried to crawl away, only to be stopped as Edgar hooked his fingers into the waistline of his jeans. "Not so fast," Edgar said. Unzipping Lucas' fly he added, "I want to try these out first."

"Shouldn't we be checking if there's a cure?"

"Come on, be a chad." He pushed Lucas' boxers out of the way, pulling his length out. "There we are." He spread his breasts with both hands before moving over his pelvis and pressing them together, and Lucas was engulfed in warmth and softness as he was covered completely. As Edgar began kneading them together in slow circles he said, "you can fuck my tits and I can hit your prostate. This is basically win-win for you."


	2. Busted (inf, hg, m/f)

There was an openness and honesty to Eleonore Grace that, even above her looks, drew people to her online. Bright green eyes, medium-length platinum blonde hair and a trailing braid combined with a warm smile, kind words, and a graceful demeanor which, despite not bearing a traditional figure, gave her an unmistakable air of femininity. She was friendly and optimistic to her audience, giving them advice on fashion and makeup, and dying with alarming frequency on-camera in games.

Behind the scenes "she" was also Diana's -boy-friend, Leo Russ, a fact she only learned about months after they began dating when she entered his apartment bedroom ten seconds after he had finished recording a video and found him in a midriff-exposing schoolgirl outfit.

"I can explain," Leo offered lamely.

Diana gave a casual shrug. "Okay."

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I dress in women's clothing, put on makeup, and stream myself online." He paused. "It... doesn't really sound good when I put it like that. Are... are you upset?"

"I'm not even mad." He froze as she approached, gently lifting the wig off his head. "You're better at this than a lot of women I know." Turning it in her hands she added, "this is really well made."

"That's not the reaction I was expecting."

"You have a hobby you enjoy that you've turned a stable income." She glanced around before spotting a styrofoam head, placing the wig on it and smoothing out the hair. "That's more than some people can say. Why, what were you expecting? Did you think I'd break up with you over this?"

"Well, no, but..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I dunno, I was kind of hoping that you'd act smug about catching me in a vulnerable moment and then use the opportunity to sexually dominate me."

Diana inched closer to him, eyes locked with his as she moved so he was between her and the bed. Gently resting her hands on his shoulders, she paused before giving him a light shove. Leo fell back onto the bed, pinned down by Diana above him as she straddled his legs, and was silenced as she lowered herself onto him and kissed him deeply. As she pulled away she slid her hands beneath his top, pushing it up as she laid kisses along his neck, trailing down to his chest. He shivered at the touch of her lips, and as her tongue flicked along his abs and over his navel he tensed up, squirming on the sheets. What came next was something else entirely, as Diana pressed her lips to his navel and blew.

A tingle spread through Leo's body, seeming to focus in his chest and backside. At first he didn't know what was happening, but as Diana moved her hands to his waist he felt his top begin to grow snug across his chest. He looked down at her, only to find his view partially blocked by curves - high, unmistakable curves that grew higher with every puff. As his newfound breasts pushed out from beneath his his top he cupped them; if he couldn't feel his hands against his own body, his skin stretching and filling, he wouldn't have believed it to be real.

He felt his hips begin to lift up as there was a faint yet steadily increasing amount of bounce to his backside. Though he could no longer see it, the tightness of his underwear told him that his thighs and ass were growing just as surely as his chest. The fabric began to pull uncomfortably tight before strands began popping, his erection held against him by its confines. He wasn't sure what to think about what was happening to him, but his body had decided regardless. As he wondered how much larger he could get, or how large Diana was going to make him, she finally relented, tracing a light circle around his navel with her finger before standing up.

"That's probably not what you had in mind," she began, giving his length a gentle pat, "but it doesn't look like you have a problem with it."

Leo took a second before pushing himself up, finding a distinct and somewhat disorienting lack of weight to his new figure. As he stood Diana gestured towards the mirrored closet door, grinning, and as he stepped towards it he found his thighs brushing against each other, to say nothing of a distracting amount of bounce both above and below his waist. He didn't realize the full extent of it, however, until he saw himself in full.

Leo would have described his new shape as "voluptuous," though that barely scratched the surface. His figure was a striking hourglass shape, top and bottom large on a positively unreal scale that he had never before seen on anyone, let alone a man, let alone himself. Massive thighs tapered up to phenomally wide hips that sharply curved back in to his normal waist, and a bobbing backside that held the back of his skirt up. His breasts had a size and roundness that made them look not entirely unlike implants, but there was no weight to them, and as he squeezed one between his hands there was a remarkable amount of elasticity and give to it.

Holding up one hand he covered part of his makeup-smudged face, trying to view himself as Eleonore with little success. "She" had a slender frame and barely-there - nonexistent, really - breasts, but the figure in the mirror was an exhibit of exaggerated sexuality. Leo had problems seeing it as himself, which probably contributed to him still being hard. Though the thought and sensation of of being this endowed wasn't exactly unpleasant.

"I can deflate you if you like." Diana came in beside him in the mirror; she tapped the top of one of his breasts, making an oddly hollow sound. "Maybe go for a more 'traditional' domination?"

He shooks his head. "This is..." Several words sprang to mind; he chose the most guarded of them. "...interesting. I kind of want to stay like this for a while."

A smirk briefly appeared on her lips. "Did you want some different clothes? I don't think the ones you're wearing are going to cut it."

"Are you offering?" He furrowed his brow. "Would yours even fit?"

"Maybe my old ones," she replied with a shrug. "I used to weight a little more than I do now."

Leo cupped his chest, comparing it with Diana's. She wasn't even close. "Sure, but-"

"Five-fifty."

He blinked. "Really?"

"Well, more like five-sixty-five."

Lapsing into silence he inspected himself in the mirror again. A thought came to mind and he hooked both thumbs into either side of his underwear. "On second thought..." He gave both sides a tug, the overtaxed elastic snapping, and he shook one leg to let it slide to the floor before facing her. "I think I could use fewer clothes."

"Why's that?"

"Because it would get in the way-" Leo pulled her in, pressing her face between his breasts with a quiet series of squeaks. "-of this."

Diana laughed as she struggled to unbury her head, looking up at him. "You know what?" she began, unbuttoning her jeans. "I think -I- could use fewer clothes too."


	3. Genie (f-be)

Andrew was hardly what one could consider a fashionable individual. While most people on the beach were sporting swimwear and outfits meant more as displays of wealth, he was content with Crocs, swim trunks, and a tank top, the sum total of which probably cost less than what some on the beach paid for dinner. Which was fine by him, since he wasn't there to impress anyone and, in any case, his interests weren't tied to wealth.

As he walked across the sands, watching the array of people near the water, he felt his foot bump into something hard with a faint thump. Stopping in his tracks he looked down to see the shine of something metallic half-buried in front of him and, stooping, he pushed the sand around it aside, picking up a tarnished yet otherwise undamaged brass oil lamp. After deliberating for a while he shrugged, wiping at a smudge with the ball of his hand only for the lamp to tremor and shake in his grasp. Clutching the handle he held it out as a stream of purple smoke erupted from the tip, looping and twisting around in the air before hitting the ground in a shower of sparkles and light, revealing a young woman in baggy pants and a halter top in the finest of silks, her hair put up in an impossibly long ponytail that seemed to move of its own accord.

"Behold!" she exclaimed with a flourish. "Long have I been imprisoned in my lamp, and you have freed me! In gratitude, I shall grant you a wish!"

Andrew blinked, looking down at the lamp then back at her. "You're a genie."

"I am!" She posed for emphasis.

"But genies are Arabic. This is California."

"Yes. I have come a long way, and my journey has taken many years."

He looked out towards the sea, eyes moving across the horizon before turning back to her. "But in order to get here you'd have to go from Persian Gulf or the Arabian Sea down around Australia, up and around the Pacific rim, and-"

"Are you calling me a liar?" the genie asked, hands on her hips.

"Plus this is way beyond high tide, it couldn't have washed up this-"

"You rubbed a lamp and got a literal genie and you're here complaining about how finding it here isn't logical. Now, do you want a wish or not?"

He stroked his chin. "Don't genies normally twist wishes around and corrupt them in some way?"

"I'm not that kind of genie." She held up one hand. "I promise."

Andrew shrugged. "Okay. I wish..." He looked pensive for a few seconds. "I wish for the power to make women's breasts grow."

The genie's expression fell. "Seriously?" She rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever." She wiggled her fingers and a stream of sparkles shot out, surrounding Andrew before flickering and fading away. "There. Just point at someone and think it."

Turning, he scanned the beach for his first subject, his eyes eventually falling upon a slight young brunette in a front-tie bikini top designed for the lesser-endowed and still barely managing to be half-filled. It was a sight that moved his heart, and so he pointed and thought of something bigger. True to the genie's word, it happened, her chest rising up into low mounds that at first filled her top, then strained it. The young woman's attention was drawn downward and she recoiled in shock at the sight, the knot undoing itself as they grew heavy enough for gravity's effect on her to be felt. She covered herself with her hands, soft flesh spilling out of them as she furtively looked around, hoping no one else had noticed.

He blinked. "Wow. It worked." He turned back towards the genie, finding her now trying to suppress a fiendish smile. His movement felt off, however, as if there was an additional weight on his chest. Looking down, he noticed that his men's tank top was subtly emphasizing his cleavage. Cleavage that wasn't there previously, because at no point prior to this did he have palm-filling breasts.

In response to his befuddled look the genie let out a cackle. "You fool! I -am- the kind of genie that twists wishes!"

"You lied!" Andrew sounded more hurt than surprised.

"Not just about that!" She jabbed at herself with her thumb. "I'm from New Mexico!"

"What, really?"

"Third-generation immigrant. There's a really big genie population in Albuquerque. Great kebabs in Little Persia."

He nodded. "I should visit sometime."

"You should." She cackled again. "But now! Whenever you use your power, you grow as much as they do!"

Andrew looked down at his index finger, then at the genie, then back at his finger. After a second of deliberation he pointed to another woman across the beach, both her chest and his creeping out another fraction of an inch.

The genie's laughter trailed off. "Didn't you hear me? I said..."

"I heard." His finger seemed to loop and sweep across the beach, his own breasts jumping up cup sizes as shirts and swimsuits elsewhere grew tighter. Andrew's metaphorical melons continued to grow towards a more literal size, his tank top sporting a generous overhang before gradually ripping across the front. Turning his attention back to himself he bobbed up and down on his heels, watching himself bounce before grabbing his chest and squeezing it with childish glee.

Needless to say, she was aghast. "That was a curse! You're not supposed to -enjoy- it!"

In response he simply pointed at her, her silk top bursting open as her breasts surged out to the scale of volleyballs, weighty and plush. She let out a yelp as she clutched at herself, trying to keep her balance as Andrew leaned back, catching himself and staying stable and upright as he grew even larger than her in kind. As he watched her boggle at her new assets, he asked, "if you're magic, does that mean your body can change even more than it does now?"

"Of course it can," she spat. "Didn't you see me come out of the lamp? I can-" The implications of the question suddenly sank in and she turned away, clutching her chest protectively. "Don't you -dare-."


End file.
